"Yes, sir."

Mr. Naseby was silent for a moment, struggling to keep down his emotion,
and he mastered it so far as to mount into the sarcastic vein, when he
was in the nearest danger of melting into the sorrowful.

"And was this--this Van Dunk with them?" he asked, dwelling scornfully
on the name.

The servant believed not, and being eager to shift the responsibility to
other shoulders, suggested that perhaps the master had better inquire
further from George the stableman in person.

"Tell him to saddle the chestnut and come with me. And then you can
take away this trash," added Mr. Naseby, pointing to the luncheon; and
he arose, lordly in his anger, and marched forth upon the terrace to
await his horse.

There Dick's old nurse shrunk up to him, for the news went like wildfire
over Naseby House, and timidly expressed a hope that there was nothing
much amiss with the young master.

"I'll pull him through," the Squire said grimly, as though he meant to
pull him through a threshing-mill; "I'll save him from this gang; God
help him with the next! He has a taste for low company, and no natural
affections to steady him. His father was no society for him; he must go
fuddling with a Dutchman, Nance, and now he's caught. Let us pray he'll
take the lesson," he added, more gravely, "but youth is here to make
troubles, and age to pull them out again."

Nance whimpered and recalled several episodes of Dick's childhood, which
moved Mr. Naseby to blow his nose and shake her hard by the hand; and
then, the horse having arrived opportunely, to get himself without delay
into the saddle and canter off.

He rode straight, hot spur, to Thymebury, where, as was to be expected,
he could glean no tidings of the runaways. They had not been seen at the
George; they had not been seen at the station. The shadow darkened on
Mr. Naseby's face; the junction did not occur to him; his last hope was
for Van Tromp's cottage; thither he bade George guide him, and thither
he followed, nursing grief, anxiety, and indignation in his heart.

"Here it is, sir," said George, stopping.

"What! on my own land!" he cried. "How's this? I let this place to
somebody--M'Whirter or M'Glashan."

"Miss M'Glashan was the young lady's aunt, sir, I believe," returned
George.

"Ay--dummies," said the Squire. "I shall whistle for my rent too. Here,
take my horse."

The Admiral, this hot afternoon, was sitting by the window with a long
glass. He already kne